Upsetting Day: Elf-Help for Coping with Cancer 🌭

There are two things that Christian book companies love: mythical creatures and puns. The popular series Elf-help has both! It’s a bunch of cheerful little cartoons drawn by the same guy who does Paddington Bear, mixed with advice for dealing with life’s little annoyances like:

Oh shit, they gave the Elves cancer? What does that even mean for an Elf? I’m definitely picturing adorable little peppermint tumors. What do Elves even know about medical care? Because I feel like they would do some dumb holistic crap, like try to replace chemotherapy with the Christmas spirit. That’s a recipe for one very dead cancer Elf. Or as Santa would call them, “The only good Elf.”

Can you imagine finding out you have cancer and knowing someone with the audacity to say,” I have a great resource that might help you feel better! It’s Elves! No, no, wait, the Elves also have cancer.” Will staring at a picture of an elf contemplating their mortality make you feel better?

If the haunting vision of a terminal Keebler mascot doesn’t cheer you up, the book also provides fun little platitudes about how maybe you should be psyched to have cancer. Maybe you should see cancer as a gift? What? Why is God giving such shitty gifts? Maybe God could have had a new car pop out when the elf used a biscuits and sausage gravy dispenser? Killing an Elf when you could easily squirt them out a gravy car is something Santa would do, God.

God isn’t mentioned in every piece of advice in the Elf-help books, but a lot of them are in general about how not to be mad at God for being terrible at choosing presents. Apparently, Elves are deeply religious. For the Christian God, too, not for an Elf God or some sort of pagan tree deity.

It’s so funny to me that a book presumably meant to cheer up people with cancer is like, “You probably feel like God has abandoned you, right? That’s probably your basic instinct, but what if, instead, you thought about these tiny, bald Elf children who also have cancer?” Spiritual uplift achieved!

Ok, maybe cancer just wasn’t the best topic for the Elves to tackle. Most of them die from polar bear attacks long before they finish treatment anyway. The point is, it’s pretty hard to make a fun book about cancer. However, there is a light topic they could probably cover with cute little cartoons in a non-depressing way. What else have the Elves helped with?

Ok, this is way less morose than a cancer diagnosis. Divorce rules! There are plenty of upsides to being able to legally end a bad relationship. It’ll be a lot easier to nail the tone of this one. Less bald children who should suck it up and be happy God gave them the gift of poison and more tips for getting your groove back by buying some slutty little Elf lingerie. Let’s see how it starts:

Shit, that’s so heavy. I don’t think these Elves are going to be enjoying themselves at all. Again, please remember these books are either supposed to be purchased by someone going through a divorce and trying to cheer themselves up, or by the friend of someone going through a divorce who thinks this will help them. Or maybe their friend just wants to give them a not so subtle hint. I guess there’s a lot of situations for which this book will be of no help.

The Elves are sick of hearing you complain, Tina. Suck it up, and thank God your husband was railing the mailman. A lot of the advice Elves have for dealing with divorce seems to be geared toward women and reminding them to relax and not gossip about their husbands. It’s another occasion where I’ve found a book that feels like it was written for one particular person who wasn’t taking their divorce well.

Look at that vicious Elven eye roll. That Elf woman is so sick of hearing her friend complain that Legolas had a fourway with Snap, Crackle, AND Pop.

The other advice this book repeats in different ways is that after a divorce, you shouldn’t get fat. You need that itty bitty revenge body to flaunt if you want to win your divorce, ladies!

One of the only pieces of actionable advice in any of the Elf-help books is to exercise. Almost all the generic advice is illustrated with Elves on stationary bikes or treadmills. These Elves are going to be so swole. They deal with every tragedy with fitness, and their vengeful God hates them.

There are male Elves in the divorce book, but it doesn’t have much to say about how to avoid buying Oakleys and panic-purchasing your favorite social media company for triple its value. It does call divorce “the death of dreams you once held dear” and shows a little Elf crying over his wedding picture. I’m sure that cheered whoever bought this book right up. I bet they were glad this Elf is fucked up too.

Well, that’s all you can say about divorce. Let’s see if there’s something a little bit cheerier anywhere in the Elf repertoire. Maybe an Elf-help With Solving Your Wife’s Murder, or Elf-help with Euthanizing Your Beloved Dog

I’m sure this will deal with depression using the exact same amount of reverence it did for cancer. We’re going to start off immediately with a cartoon Elf staring out a window, looking haunted in a way that will make people laugh and wonder, “What has this tiny man done that’s left him so scarred? Does he have PTSD from the time he saw Tim Allen murder Santa?”

Elf-help For Overcoming Depression suggests that depressed people “observe children at work and play.” Because nothing makes someone feel better than parents at the park telling you to stop creeping around their kids. “Oh, you’re sad? And the Elves said my kids would make you feel better? I’m calling the fucking police!”

I feel like this book is the most elf-aware. By that, I mean it knows the Elves aren’t helping in any way. In fact, they’re actively making the recipients of these gifts feel worse. I say that because this is the only self-help book that advises you to go out and buy more self-help books. It even illustrates an Elf buying a whole cart of self-help books without getting a pitying look from the cashier!

I can’t believe they named the example books U are good and SELF-HELPIN You when there were opportunities for fun Elf puns. The publishers came up with one Elf pun, and then they retired on Elf-help alone. That’s why the ’80s ruled. The 7 Habits Of Highly Elfective People. The Life-Changing Magic Of Repairing Shoes While The Shoemaker Sleeps, Who Moved My Cheerful Little Hat? I’m giving those to the Elf-help people FOR FREE.

The other Elf-help tips for depression include the classic “maybe depression is good, actually?” Depression teaches you so much about yourself, like how long you can stand to go without showering because the silence of your own mind is petrifying. Also, what is the saddest meal you can possibly stand to consume? Plain bread with ketchup? Boiled noodles with absolutely nothing else on them? Raisins? You’ll never know without your good friend Depression.

Other hot depression tips include asking for a miracle! Keep in mind what we learned about God earlier, though. You can’t ask for a specific miracle, and odds are, you’re not getting the gravy machine. If you try to cure your depression by asking for a miracle, the lord might respond with the miracle of cancer, his most generous gift. Use with caution.

Does…does that help? Can you relate to Dobby better, knowing he, too, has faced the pain of divorce? Wait, I just thought of someone these books could definitely help, people with an elf crying fetish. If these books are your kink, you’re welcome!

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Aaron Croston, the unicorn who struggles with Seasonal Affective Disorder.

5 replies on “Upsetting Day: Elf-Help for Coping with Cancer 🌭”

I don’t know the illustrations being great makes these things overall better or worse, but I have to respect Alley’s commitment to his work. He was asked to draw an elf cancer ward, and, with aplomb, he drew a bald pointy-eared child hooked up to an IV like it was just another picture of Paddington

Widdle Elon isn’t mourning the loss of his marriage. Grimey was just the hottest borderline/bisexual “artist” who would touch his penis, that is, in between his throwing it into any reasonably attractive white woman in his vicinity that held still long enough. He also makes time to make machines that don’t work properly, and that often explode. Also, he is a very active online racist troll.
When future civilizations look back on this period, they will be struck by just how silly the American people were, “American” will be an idiom for shortsighted greed. We had the whole world by the balls and all we did is make the richest rich people ever. Pathetic. At least, it will be fun watching the shit-house burn. Get your popcorn, I brought the gasoline.

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